


All The Nails I'll Need

by Prototype



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prototype/pseuds/Prototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank hasn't been the same since the accident. He still blames Ray. Ray has stopped saying sorry, and has moved on to proving it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Nails I'll Need

 

**All The Nails I’ll Need**

 

  
  
It happened so quickly I don’t really remember it that well. I can remember the evening running up to the incident, and the last few things I did. I can remember what song I was playing, what move I attempted, my spine twisting. I can remember…a thud, a crunch, and then my body flailing. It was one of those moments when you know you’re in pain and badly hurt, but you had to wait until you’ve stopped rolling, stopped moving, to work out what happened.

  
I remember screams. Gerard swearing holy mercy down the mic, filling the air with curse words and the music just stopping.  
Then it hurt, and that’s when I blacked out.

  
That had been months ago, and I still wasn’t back to normal. I never would be. It still hadn’t occurred to me yet that I never would.

  
Those months had been…brutal.

  
There was a ringing sound and I raised my head. It took me a few minutes to carefully navigate my way towards where I knew the phone was, my fingertips tracing out the edges of couches and walls.

  
“Hello?”

“Hey…it’s me,”

“Hey Ray,”

“Can I come up?”

“I spose…”

  
This was awkward. I pressed the button to swing the door open and put the phone down. His voice still leaked out of it but I didn’t hear what he said.

  
Part of me didn’t want to – but what choice did I have? It was that or silence.

I moved towards the front door, my hands using the walls for support unless my fingertips found the lock catch. I opened it and stepped away, leaving the door open. I heard his footsteps thunder up the stairs, that eager gait I recognised as his bounding up the stairs. Ray likes climbing things, lifting things, running, conquering them. I’ll never understand why.

He slowed as he gently pushed the door open, his breath steady despite his run up the three staircases.

“Hey,”

He didn’t sound good. Neither did I.

“Hi,”

I felt his hand touch my arm and I shivered, he was boiling hot. I was cold.

“You ok?”

I shook my head. He clicked his tongue softly; I could imagine his face ceasing up in sympathy. “So…she left?”

I nodded.

“When?”

“Last night, during CSI…”

 

He chuckled lightly. “You still telling the time by the TV?”

I didn’t move or say anything. I felt him move closer, because it suddenly got warmer. I stepped back, my back hitting the doorpost into the living room. He sighed.

“Why’s it so cold in here?”

I shrugged. Truth was I couldn’t find the thermostat…and even if I did, I wouldn’t know where it was set or how far I’d turned it. Iavoided tasks like that – that reminded me.

I felt the floorboards move as Ray moved past me, going into the living room I hadn’t moved out of for hours. I heard him fiddle with the temperature, closing the window.

“Frank, come inside – I’ll make some coffee before I bring my stuff up,”

I jumped. He was right next to me, speaking right into my ear.

“Your stuff?”

“Yep,”

“Like…what? Your guitar?”

He chuckled. “No, I figured I’d play with yours if I needed to,” he said gently. “I’m moving in,”

I frowned. “No,”

“Frank-“

“No. I don’t need you here,”

He sighed, touching my arm again. I pulled it away, angrily, and used my hands to move away from him, into the kitchen. I hated being in here, there were too many things to hurt myself on.

“Frank, you need someone, you can’t just be on your own. You’ll go peculiar,”

I snorted, hearing Ray’s heavy footsteps.

“Fuck off, Toro, if anyone’s got to stay with me, why’s it have to be you?”

He didn’t say anything for a little bit, and I tensed against the kitchen bench. I expected him to get upset.

"Because…I dunno, we’re friends and I’ve got no one at home either, and I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else,”

“That’s not the reason, is it?”

“Ok, yes, I’m responsible, and I wanna help there too – but it’s true, you would go peculiar on your own, you’re known for it,”

“And you’re known for being a clumsy, heavy footed mouth breather who daddies everyone around you and gets his huge feet stuck in doors he shouldn’t,” I retorted. “And you always use up all the hot water,”

He sighed heavily, I could hear the smirk.

“I’ll work on the breathing and the hot water, but I can’t help being so huge, you know it. Now, point towards the coffee maker,”  
I gritted my teeth, knuckles tightening on the side of the bench. “You’re not staying here, Ray!”

“Who would you rather have? Bob who’d be bossing you around non stop? Gerard and his really weird sleeping patterns? And all those cartoon anime shows? Or maybe Mikey who’d constantly being asking if you’re ok and treating you like a kid?”

“I have more friends than just the guys,”

“Yeah, but we’re the only friends that have lived with you for years at a time – the only ones who know exactly how you like your coffee, and your favourite kind of beer or your bizarre way of doing laundry,”

I didn’t say anything, my jaw still clenched.

“Or maybe you’d prefer a stranger to come and live with you? Some horrible older woman who hates guitars and rock music?”

“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point…but why you, Ray? Why you?”

“I told you,”

“No – not really, you haven’t,” I said, turning towards his voice. “Go on, say it,” I growled, growing angry. “Say it!”

“You’re blind, Frank,”

He didn’t hesitate. And that hurt.

“And whose fault is that?” I spat. He didn’t hesitate again.

“Mine,”

There was a poisonous second or two of silence.

“Fuck off,”

“Frank, you’ve gotta start accepting help – this is getting stupid,”

“You don’t even care, do you?!”

He laughed. “Of course I do, why do you think I’m moving in? I spent days at your bedside, and then weeks helping you through physiotherapy. I’ve said sorry in every possible way I could think of, and now I’m sure you’ve got the message, I’m moving in and staying here – all for you. Now stop being an ungrateful moron, and tell me where the coffee maker is,”

“Gah! Don’t you get it, Ray?! I don’t want you here!”

“Tough luck, I already left Tally,”

That one stopped me in my tracks. “What?”

“I left her, I knew it’d be horrible to keep a relationship going when I wanted to look after you,”

“How are you so calm about this?! You just said you left your fiancée!”

“Frank, it’s ok, we’re still gonna see each other and all that, but the weddings off, and we don’t live together anymore,”

“But- how?”

“She knows how much you mean to me, and she’s ok with it, it’s fine, now for the millionth time – where’s the coffee machine?”

I listened to the clatter of a jug, the beep of buttons, the smell of coffee. I could hear Ray’s steady breathing – it told me exactly where he was, where his face was. Jamia didn’t breathe loudly, I could never…see her. I kept my face towards his, listening to the sounds of him making us coffee.

“Ray…why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I asked weakly. I felt his hand touch my arm again, my shoulder. His fingers pinched my neck gently.

“Ah, well…you’re too important to leave alone,”

“Important?”

“To me,”

Neither of us said anything after that. I felt Ray twitch a hot cup towards my fingers, the hot air warning me to find the handle. He picked his up and I reached out, my fingers finding his arm and latching on. He walked out of the kitchen, into the living room with me walking behind him. Without saying a word, he helped me find my seat and sat down on the couch next to me.  
We watched Desperate Housewives together, me listening carefully and him occasionally making comments that made me snort with laughter into my coffee, and helped form the pictures in my head.

“Red is definitely not Gabby’s colour, makes her look orange,”

“Man, Tom needs to shave, the scruffy bastard,”

“You can totally tell Bree’s pregnant in this one – they never show her stomach, and her breasts are huge!”

However…bitter I was, the coffee and the companionship warmed me up. A little.

“Ray?”

“Uh huh?”

“I’m kinda beat, you mind showing me the bedroom?”

He didn’t say anything, just wrenched himself up and offered me a hand. I liked moving around my apartment with him leading me. I didn’t have to touch the walls. It made me feel better, even if I knew I couldn’t see.

The mornings were the worst. I always forgot, and my heart leapt into my throat.

Ray led me over the messy floor of clothes and magazines and I sat down on the bed.

“Still getting magazine subscriptions?”

I nodded. “I got Jam to read them to me, and books too,” I said, a bit hollowly.

“You get comfortable and I’ll tell you about Britany’s latest disaster then, it’s a giggle,”

I smiled gently. He didn’t make me feel like a burden. He made me feel…I dunno. Good? Ok? Better than I expected to the day after my girlfriend ditched me? I was too tired to dwell on it, I was just happy that I didn’t feel as helpless as I was when he slumped down on the bed next to me and starting relaying total bullshit to me, about people I didn’t care about. It was…the way he spoke. He didn’t just read them out, he actually read them, laughed, and then summarised – he made it a conversation.  
I fell asleep, resentful, embarrassed, hurt, and…helpless still. But happy.

 

  
  
The first few days were hard. I was constantly abusive towards Ray, his presence both irritating me and soothing me – having a constant friend close was just that. Constant. But at the same time, when I asked him to leave me alone, he would and then I’d let everything begin to fester. At least when he was within a fingertip touch, I had someone to yell at.

We got into a sort of fistfight at one point, where I attacked him as clumsily as a blind man can, and he took every hit I half delivered him. My fists bounced off his body, my blurry tears of rage stinging. He then punched me once and it was over – we went back to normal. Normal for us, anyway.

It was better than with Jam. Ray never got pissed off when I was short tempered or frustrated. He breathed loudly, which may sound annoying, but when you’re relying on pure sound, was a godsend. He hummed a lot too, which helped me find him in the flat. He never made me feel like I was handicapped, he’d hook my arm like we were female best friends and take me anywhere I asked him to, even though we must’ve looked a sight. He involved me with the world around me, chatting about the smallest detail like it was a life saver. With him constantly describing the void, it was like – in just tiny little snippets – I had my sight back. He’d describe in ultimate detail the girls on the bus, the way of the light looked shifting through the windows in the living room, the dogs barking in the parks…everything.

I started to love his voice, and its narration.

“Frank, you ready? I wanna get coffee before we head over to the barbers,”

“Hold your fucking horses, Toro, I’m getting there,”

Slowly, Ray had helped me become a bit more confident in the home. He’d rearranged furniture to take away sharp corners and protrusions to stub my feet or crotch on. He’d also begun to force me to do things for myself. I could now identify most of my clothing on my own, dress myself, style my hair, make myself coffee and toast and even-

“How long can tying your shoelaces take?” he chuckled, waiting.

Even though I knew some blind people’d be upset if someone said that to them, I loved it. He treated me exactly the same as ever, albeit with a bit more physical contact.

“Ok, done!”

I jumped up and made my way towards the door, my hand outstretched. My fingertips hit something and I retracted quickly, feeling hot demin and creases – that could only be one thing. My face flamed. “Sorry, man,”

“No worries, I was surprised it took you so long to try and cop a feel,” he giggled, teasing me “You’ve been staring at it for weeks now,”

“You’re such a dick, Toro,” I laughed, my hand finding his shoulder and shoving it. He delighted in teasing me, but I knew it was only in fun. We were always being silly together these days, the layers of in jokes becoming a cocoon. The guys didn’t understand anything we laughed about now.

“You have no idea, Frankikins, come on – coffee!”

He was taking me to the barbers today, he’d told me the night before that my hair needed a trim – it was at my shoulders and full of split ends. He also reckoned I needed a shave, and he didn’t trust himself. “Too clumsy,” he claimed.

“So how short do you want it?” he asked me, the cool morning air swirling inside him. It smelt like wet leaves and damp concrete.

“I dunno…you’re the one who has to look at me, how short do you think it should go?”

He thought about it, I guessed he was looking at my face. I smiled, sipping my Starbucks gingerly.

“Well, if it’s up to me…to be honest, I reckon you could do with a new do all together,”

“Seriously? What’s the point?”

“There isn’t one, cept you’d look good with a style and like you said, I’m the one looking,”

I giggled. “Ok, what style?”

“Well I liked your Mohawk, bleached look – but then again, so does every girl on the internet,”

Ray spent hours and hours reading to me, magazines, books, anything. Recently we’d decided to indulge and read fan fiction…and of course, MCR fan fiction isn’t hard to find…

“Well, the Mohawk was fun…”

A handful of hours later, I was shaved – both on the sides of my skull and my face – bleached, dyed black and red, and back on the streets.

“You like?”

“I love,”

“Thanks,”

“No problem,”

 

  
A few weeks later, I was in the bedroom listening to an audiotape Ray’d bought while him and Tally were in the front room. The door was shut, something we never do cept to shit and shower. I was a bit worried, to be honest. Ray kept saying he and Tally were fine, they went out every so often but he didn’t like leaving me alone for too long. Because he missed me.  
I hoped they weren’t having sex.

The tape was good, and it was loud enough in case they were having sex, but it didn’t work the same way because I’d gotten so used to Ray’s narration.

I’d begun to faze into sleep when I felt the bed move and Ray’s familiar smell. I pulled off the headphones.

“What happened?”

“Um…” he hesitated. “We’re definitely through, it seems. She’s not happy with seeing me once or twice a week, and I’m not happy being away from you, so that’s it,”

“Jesus,” I said gently. “You ok?”

He breathed in slowly. “Should be…it’s just a bit disappointing really, because…well, I thought she’d at least hang in for the past few months, you know? Turns out she’s been seeing someone roughly since I broke off the engagement,”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Ray,”

“Said she’d drop him immediately if I told her it’d go back to what it was, even if it meant her moving in with us and helping keep you company,”

“Why didn’t you say yes?!”

“Because…” he sighed. “Because I didn’t want it that way. She didn’t seem to understand how much I’ve got out of this, she doesn’t understand why I’m here. And, to be honest, I want to keep it this way than try and knit her into my life again. I’ve already got you, and that’s all I need,”

I wasn’t sure what to say. “Ray, you’re my best friend,”

My hand found him, squeezing it lightly. He squeezed back.

“I know. You’re mine too…I’m gonna go for a walk, I’ll be back in a bit, ok?”

“Ok, sure, no worries,”

“Cool,”

“Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too,”

 

 

  
“Are you sure there are none left?”

Ray sighed. “I am, I’ve checked the Fictional and the Completed section a million times – there’s nothing new left,”

I sighed. “I wish these girls updated more,”

“What makes you think they’re all girls?”

“Oh please,”

He giggled. “Ok, well, I’m kinda lying, there’s one or two I haven’t read but…”

“Oh, you little liar!” I squealed, hitting him lightly. “Who by?”

“One’s by Defiant,”

“Oh, I love her though! How dare you,” I giggled, the beer or four I’d had making me hyperactive and giggly. “Why won’t you read it to me?”

“Because it’s Rank,”

“Now that’s rude, you can’t go around calling people’s hard work rank,”

“No, I mean, it’s Fray,”

“But this is an MCR forum…”

Ray’s laughter bellowed through the air next to me, his entire body rocking. I listened to him, feeling the vibrations of his shaking laughter. “What did I say?”

Finally, he choked out: “It’s you and me slash, Frank,”

“OOHH!” I realised, slapping my forehead. “So? Read it!”

That stopped the laughing. “You sure? Don’t you think it’d be a bit weird?”

“Nah, weird is when a bunny tells Gerard to commit suicide and I’m blowing up schools, or when Gerard and me are porno standard teachers riding pupils on desks,” I giggled. “If it weirds you out, skip a bit,” I said, waving my hand. “Plus, I think we’d make a great couple – now read!”

And he did, letting me lie down on the bed whilst he sat next to me, the laptop on his knees. Ray’s voice was perfect for me to listen to, he usually didn’t have too much emotion in his voice but when he read he had a wistful tone, an alluring way of shaping the words. It was a sad story at first, my character was horrible abused but then…then me and Ray slotted together and it started, slowly, getting better.

I could tell Ray was blushing as he read about our first time together, and I found myself blushing.

This was far more intimate than anything I’d ever done, the gentle way he said the lyrical words on the screen – describing our kisses and our moaning pleasure together. It…it should have been embarrassing.

It rose something in my blood.

Neither of us said anything during it, I didn’t even cut in with sarcastic or silly comments like I was prone to do, listening to Ray reading fanfiction.

And when he’d reached the last chapter posted, I sighed, wanting more. Wanting more…of what?

I heard Ray yawn, the laptop slipping off his lap as he put it on the floor. I knew he was tired. So tired that as soon as the laptop was safe, I heard him begin to snore gently. I smirked and wriggled under the covers, letting myself sleep too.

His soft breathing sent me to a deeper shade of black.

 

  
“FUCK! FUCK!!”

My own voice, somewhere out there in the shuddering dark. My limbs jerked, air stabbing the back of my throat. My eyes were bursting, widening and widening and widening but seeing nothing. It wasn’t just dark, it was nothing.

“FUCK!”

I was screaming, roaring. It was the kind of relentless noise of terror that everything else faded free, my body throwing itself out of bed, elbows, skull, knees knocking on the floor and the bedside table. Pain faded in the hollow screams.

“FUCKING HELL!”

I felt hands pull me back softly, dim in the raw noise. I heard my name, a feeble whimper against the pure howls. Arms locked around my waist, pinning my arms down. Something pushed me down, halting my thrashing. My cries muffled as my face was cast between the sheet and someone’s head.

That voice, the one that spoke my name, whispered over and over in my ear. Words that I couldn’t hear properly, but calmed me down nonetheless. My screams began to quiet. I realised it was Ray, his cheek to mine, his lips brushing my hair as he repeated himself over and over. He was behind me, holding me down securely.

“Calm down, calm down, it’s ok, you’re alright, it’s ok,”

Eventually, I found myself calm again. Breathing evenly. My eyes still stretched open.

“Close your eyes, Frank, calm down,”

I shut my eyes, just like he told me.

Finally, I was ok again.

“Oh God…” I whispered, sighing heavily. “Oh my God…”

“You forgot again?”

I nodded stiffly.

“You ok?”

I nodded again.

”Want me to let go?”

“No, no. Stay there, don’t let go,”

“Frank?”

“Don’t let go of me,”

“I’m sorry,”

“I forgave you weeks ago,”

“But I’m still sorry, I’ll always be sorry,”

“Make it up to me,”

“How?”

“Take me out tomorrow, just you and me, somewhere nice and…together,”

“You mean…?”

“I mean,”

His arms relaxed over me, but still stayed linked across my body. His head shifted to rest behind me, his breath colouring my shivering skin.

“Ok, yeah, that’d be good,”

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,”  


 

 

The next day, Ray helped me find clothes that I looked good in. A white shirt, the top unbuttoned. Black jeans, and a black jacket. I wanted to look smart, but good. For him.

I don’t know what he wore, but I could smell the demin, and the leather of his jacket. When he came to find me in my room, I ran my hand from his thigh to his shoulders, tracing his clothes. “Nice,”

“Thanks,”

“You tied your hair back?”

“For now, I’ll take it out when we get there,”

“Oo, where’re we going?”

“I’m not telling you,” he teased me, taking my hand and hooking it through his elbow. Something was different between us. We walked slower, closer. My face was smiling. We were softer.

He took me to a theme park. It was _awesome._

We rode the rollercoasters over and over and over, him holding my hand securely to reassure me he was there. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt everything. The air rushing through my hair, freezing my face, stealing my joyful screams. He bought me beer and hotdogs. He got me to the front of every single queue, playing the blind card so beautifully. In the evening, he took me to the cinema and spent the entire night whispering in my ear, telling me everything they was going on the screen through all three of the movies we watched.

I had one of the best days of my life.

He was never out of contact, holding my hand or touching me. His voice filled my head, coloured in the blanks. I felt better than ever next to him.

“Ray?”

We were walking the streets toward home, my hand in his and inside his jacket pocket to stay warm.

“Mm?”

“Thanks for a great day…thanks for a great date,”

It was the tensest second or two of my life, saying that one word and waiting for Ray to response.

“It’s ok, I had a great time too. But it’s not over yet,”

“It’s not?”

“No, there’s one last thing,” he said, stopping me and turning so he was right in front of me. His hands rested on my elbows, his body radiating illuminating warmth. I smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the goodnight kiss,”

I tensed. I was scared, but at the same time…I was nervous. I was…oh my God, he was kissing me. It was so sweet, the tiny little peck on my lips. A peck that dwelt, his mouth still pressed to mine. I kissed back, opening my lips a tiny bit and pressing back against his. Our bodies moved closer together, his tongue running slowly across my lower lip.

I could taste him fully, feeling my head swim with his scent and his taste. He felt real under my hands. Colours dazzled under myeyelids.

It was like I could see again.  

“So…” whispered Ray, pulling back. “This is where we are,”

I nodded. “Yeah…weird huh?”

“Weird is psycho bunnies and fangirls getting hot over anal sex – this isn’t that weird,”

“Why not?”

“We always hurt the ones we love,” he sighed, his calloused fingertips touching my scarred eyes.

“You love me?”

“I think I do…I dunno yet, but it’s worth it to try,” he said. I smiled.

“So this is where we are?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hit you in the face with the butt of my guitar and blinded you and you’re still willing to let me in your bed and kiss you and stuff, so yeah – this is us,”

“I’m willing to let you kiss me and…be in my bed again. Just promise me no more guitar collisions, ok?” I asked, smiling. His forehead rested against mine.

“Deal,”

He kissed me again, and the sun came up.


End file.
